


Steady

by heartswells



Series: Micro-Story Prompts [6]
Category: Hockey RPF, Men’s Hockey RPF
Genre: (open to interpretation), Angst, Anxiety, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Communication Issues, Consent, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt: Trembling Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartswells/pseuds/heartswells
Summary: He didn’t know how to say, I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, but I’m terrified of having sex, and I'm not ready. And I’m afraid I’ll never be.





	Steady

“Mitch.”

He was struggling to breathe, struggling to maintain his veneer of composure and readiness, when Matt’s hands slipped from under his shirt and he gingerly untwined his kiss-enthused fingers from Mitch’s hair.

“Your hands are trembling,” Matt said gently.

“Yeah, I—” His mind was reeling with the singular shrieking need to be ready, and the terrified, desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of faux-lust depraved him of the ability to finish inventing an excuse. Mitch turned his gaze away in dread, heart freezing when the whole of Matt’s warmth left him as he completely pulled away.

“I think we should wait,” Matt stated.

It was what he wanted, but the words made his stomach twist and wring itself, nauseating him with trepidation.

“What?” he stuttered.

“You aren’t ready.” When Mitch's lips began to stumble on the formation of an excuse, Matt sighed.

“Mitch, if you aren’t ready, then I’m not ready, so I’m saying no, and I need you to be honest about that. You look terrified. Talk to me,” Matt asserted.

“I’m sorry,” Mitch muttered. He felt his anxiety morph into something colder and crueler than anxiety, something oily and filthy like self-disgust.

“Mitch, I’m not asking for an apology. I’m just concerned. You’re shaking,” Matt soothed as he gingerly grasped one of Mitch’s hands and held it steady, flattening his fingers in big, warm palms.

“I—” He was anticipating the rejection and awaiting the anger Matt was sure to express. He was dizzy. He felt gross. He couldn’t think.

“Mitch?” Matt inquired, tugging him back from his thoughts.

“I—I’m fine. It’s okay,” he laughed halfheartedly, attempting to dodge the sudden vulnerability and distract Matt by pulling him into a kiss, to just get it all over with, to make it all go away.

But Matt pulled away.

“You aren’t okay. You don’t want this.” Mitch cringed as Matt slipped his shirt back on while he replied.

“It’s okay, Mitch,” Matt assured him, squeezing both his hands tenderly, keeping his trembling fingers warm and steady in his sweaty palms.

“I just,” he didn’t know how to finish his statement, how to say what he wanted to say. He didn’t know how to say, I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, but I’m terrified of having sex, and I'm not ready. And I’m afraid I’ll never be.

“Mitch, come back to me,” Matt prompted tenderly, jolting him from his thoughts.

“I’m scared.”

It was all Mitch could manage, and despite the stupidity and inadequacy and worthlessness the childish words made him feel, it was the truest confession he could make.

He felt the humiliation and vulnerability of his confession with an acuteness as intense as the fear he had of sex itself. He felt shame; he felt worthlessness; he felt guilt. He felt the weight of sex on his heart like the burden of a lie, and he saw that sex like he saw himself: unwanted; unknown; confusing; terrifying.

“It’s okay, Mitch. I just need you to tell me that. I don’t want to hurt you,” Matt assuaged.

“I just don’t want you to hate me,” he choked.

As much as I hate myself, he left unsaid.

**Author's Note:**

> You’ll know when you’re ready, and it’s okay if you never are.


End file.
